


Lay With Me

by sammisue



Category: GTLive, Game Theory - Fandom, Youtubers, film theory, youtube - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Stephew, The Game Theorists, stephpat - Freeform, the film theorists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammisue/pseuds/sammisue
Summary: Matthew and Stephanie plan a picnic, in which the unexpected happens.Disclaimer: This is not for the faint of heart. We took angst to a whole new level in this work.This fic was a little project that I worked on with @TheZeldaNerd (on Wattpad) where we combined our writing styles into one work. I wrote Steph's POV and she wrote Mat's POV.Thank you Jess for writing this with me. I'm really glad we had this opportunity to work together on this piece. This was honestly an amazing experience. I love you!





	1. No More (Steph's POV)

"I love you."

Those three words were among the last I ever said to him. To my loving husband.

To Matthew.

I wish I could have said more, like 'Matthew, you've made my life better than I could have ever imagined' or 'Matthew, you mean everything to me' or maybe even a simple 'thank you' for everything that he has done; a thank you for his encouragement, his support, his admiration, and all of the _love_ that he held for me. But, my words failed as my world, everything I ever loved, laid, dying, in my arms. All I could muster was a meek 'I love you'.

That was not enough.

There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to do. We had so many plans, so many open opportunities for us to reach out and take. Wasted. Completely wasted. Why didn't I say 'yes' to that date the other day? Why didn't I accept his offer to take a break from work and watch a movie with him? Why didn't I break that fight?

Why didn't I see this coming?

My hands were stained red with the blood that oozed from his stomach, the same stomach that I used to kiss and slowly rub my fingers against in soft, tender circles while we laid together, tangled in our warm bed sheets, on lazy Sunday mornings. It used to tickle him. Now, he felt nothing as he coughed crimson liquid from the inner depths of his body. He shook in my arms, desperately clinging onto whatever thread of life he had left within him, but we both knew he wasn't going to make it.

He didn't stand a chance.

I pulled his body closer to mine, bowing my head, placing my forehead on his as beads of sweat fell from the sides of his face. His skin was cold. His body was limp. His breathing was sporadic. He was dying. He was dying and I refused to accept it. This was not happening.

But then, he placed his blood stained palm on my cheek, and I knew that this was a hell that I couldn't escape. This was real.

I was losing the love of my life and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I grasped his hand in mine, tears falling from my bloodshot eyes, rolling down his cold, slender hand. I tried to speak again, hoping that this time I could express just _how much_ I loved him, but, there was a disruption between the thoughts in my mind and the movement of my mouth. That disruption? Fear. Fear, sorrow, heartbreak, terror, depression, pain. Pain. Death. Something that I could never comprehend. A concept I never wanted to experience for myself.

It's funny how life works, isn't it?

Matthew's life was slipping from my grasp and I all I could do was hold his mortal body in my arms. I could not speak. I could not move. Neither could he. We sat in silence, staring into each other's eyes, longing to embrace each other once more, for one last kiss, one last dance, one last laugh, last pun, last playful punch. But, we were frozen; unable to feel, unable to think, unable to express our emotions. Unable to express our love in the form of words because of the thought of death looming over us. Looming over me. Taking away my husband, draining his life, slowly, painfully, right before my eyes.

These are the experiences nightmares are made of. Unfortunately, for us, this was not an illusion we could wake up from, in the middle of the night, unable to keep us from running into each other's arms for comfort. This was our reality.

No more late nights, no more movies, no more dates, no more conventions, no more dances, no more kisses, no more cuddles, no more happiness, no more joy. 

No more Matthew.   



	2. 'Til Death Do Us Part (Mat's POV)

Never before had I felt such an immense pain. Never before had I seen so much pain in my wife's beautiful, chocolate brown eyes. Once so playful and energetic, now so lifeless and lethargic. Salty tears streamed from those same brown irises and I could hear the deep anguish coming from my beautiful wife's heart. She didn't scream. She froze. I watched as her delicate knees crashed to the ground as her world crumbled around her. I watched helplessly as tears streamed down her fragile face. I wanted nothing more than to reach up and wipe those warm, acidic tears away.

     But I couldn't.

     I couldn't do anything.

     I couldn't move.

     The pain was too much to bare.

    **_I wanted to die._**

     But there was something telling me to hold on a little while longer. Maybe it was the look in Stephanie's eyes, or maybe it was the oxygen fighting to course through my lungs. Maybe it was the memories of my younger days, when things were good and things were bad, the channel, the fans... oh the fans. The lives I've-We've touched, everything was becoming an anamnesis, a distant memory.

_I always thought a gunshot to the stomach would be the most painful thing a person could feel._

_I was wrong._

**_I couldn't have been more wrong._ **

Seeing Steph's cheerful facade crumble away as she held my lifeless body in her soft, fragile arms was more painful than the bullet coursing through my body.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. We were supposed to die together, _"Till death do us part"_.

I guess this is what that phrase means.

     This was supposed to be a nice, anniversary picnic. A break from all the stress we have been enduring lately. We gave Jason and Chris the day off. They work so hard... I wish I had been nicer to Jason. He was my best friend and I treated him like shit.

     How did everything become such a mess?

     We were having a great time...   
  
  
  
  
  


"Keep your eyes closed!" I shouted playfully, my hand gently interlocked in Steph's.

In the other hand, I held an old wicker picnic basket which was filled to the brim with all of our favorite foods. I had wanted to do something special for our anniversary. We have been together for five years. These have been the best five years of my life and I thank every god Stephanie said yes. We always talked about doing something like this for a long time, but it seemed like time was never on our side --until today.

"Matthew, my eyes are closed and they have been the whole time. Where are we going?" She asked, slightly frustrated, but playful.

"Stephanie, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you would it?" I scolded.

"I don't like not watching where I'm going. I feel like you're going to lead me to a pond or a fountain or something." She giggled

"Wow, I see how it is, you don't trust me," I scoffed, slightly hurt.

"Matthew, you know I'm kidding," She laughed. God I love her laugh

We walked for a little while longer until we were as far away from everyone as possible. I spread out the traditional red and white checkered blanket on the grass and placed the picnic basket upon it.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

She opened her eyes and a small gasp escaped her mouth. I smiled as I saw the excitement fill her gorgeous brown irises.


	3. That Red-and-White Checkered Blanket (Steph's POV)

I remember when we got that red-and-white checkered blanket. I told Matthew that it was 'too cliche' if we were to ever use it for a picnic, but he bought it anyways. Of course, there I was, standing in front of it, next to my husband who motioned for me to sit as the sun's rays lightly kissed my skin on this warm May day, and I couldn't have been happier.

"Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?"

I turned to Matthew. He smirked at me, hands resting in his jean pockets once again, a mischievous glint in his eyes --that same glint that I had grown to love rather quickly. I rolled my eyes at him, but smiled. No, I didn't need an invitation. I was just enjoying the scenery. He sighed, brought his hands out of his pockets, and motioned for me to sit on the blanket once again.

"Stephanie Patrick, would you like to enjoy this picnic with me?"

"I would love to."

So, that's how we spent our anniversary: eating sandwiches, rolling in the grass, watching ducks paddle around in the nearby pond. But, what I think I liked most was when, after we ate dessert of course, we laid on our backs and watched the clouds slowly pass by. We associated animals with their distorted shapes. Mat thought one was a triceratops. I thought it was a rhino. Argument ensued that ended with playful slaps, tickles, and then with my body on top of his. He gently pushed my long, brown hair away from my face, letting his fingers linger tenderly on my hairline. They were soft, and so were his lips when they pressed against mine. I smiled into the kiss, giggling slightly, slipping my hand under his head, enjoying the moment.

Usually, I would be uncomfortable showing affection in any public place, but today felt different. This was our anniversary, there weren't many bystanders around, and the growing urge to melt into Mat's skin became too irresistible to bare. I loved him so much --more than I could ever explain. And, after all of these years of constant unconditional admiration, I remember when it all started.

I was just a mere college freshman, one that never took chances, afraid of the world and what it had to offer. But, then, I met him and, through our years together, we've faced things I never never wanted to experience first-hand --unemployment, slight starvation, and near-poverty-- but despite our dismal situation back in New York, our love never faded, never wavered, never lost. Through thick and thin, we stuck together, never losing our relationship in the sea of financial instability. We made the best out of what we had because we were infatuated with each other. Now, after five years of marriage, look at where we are: steady jobs, loving fans, the ability to experience the world as we please. No more small apartments, no more pasta-and-jarred-sauce dinners, no more asking our parents for loans. But, despite this change, our love stayed consistent. To this day, I love Matthew just as much as I did while in college, maybe even a little more.

He was the first to pull away. As much as I hated breaking from him, oxygen was nice, too. I opened my eyes only to see his stare back at me; the sun's light brought out the most vibrant brown hues in his irises. He really was a beautiful man, and he was mine.

We smiled at each other, unable to keep our emotions at bay. I pressed my nose against his, my hair laid over his forehead as he rested his hands on my shoulders.

"I love you."

Those three words. We could never say them enough.

"I love you too."

I rolled my body off of his, laying my back against the checkered blanket once again, fingers interlocked, shoulders brushing against each other. I laid my arm across my eyes, nose resting in the nook of my elbow, blocking the light that blinded me, and laughed. Looking back on it, I don't think I laughed so hard in my life. It was euphoric. Matthew joined me, his fingers tightening around my own. His dolphin-like cackles warmed my heart.

I wished I could stay in this moment forever.

But, as the sun started to set in the distance, we knew that was our cue to head back home. As we packed away our belongings, I took Matthew's hand in mine.

"Can we walk home?"

The park wasn't _too_ far away from our house, and I desperately wanted to spend the last hour or so of light outside with him, refusing to let this date end.

To my surprise, he said yes.

That was our first mistake.


	4. Say Goodbye (Mat's POV)

"HEY!"

A gravelly voice called to us. We turned in the direction of the caller and there before us stood a person wearing a Game Theory T-shirt and jeans. They looked harmless, but in this day and age, you can never be sure. As much as I loved the loyal theorists, I had planned to spend this time with Steph and only Steph. No Skip, No Jason and especially no crazed fans. This was our anniversary, our special moment.

"Should we ignore them?" I looked over to Stephanie who was walking beside me.

"They ARE a fan. You don't have many of those."

"Excuse you! I have MANY fans. Have you seen the Fanfics?" I exclaimed.

"Yeah actually, they're gross, and many of them involve me being pregnant..." She replied disgusted.

I chuckled softly. "Whatever, let's just keep walking, if they come over, we'll say hey."

Steph gave me a reluctant look but agreed to keep walking.

I suddenly felt uneasy. I felt a pair of eyes staring at me, _no_ , staring _through_ me. Could Steph feel it too? Was I imagining it? I turned around and saw the strange figure from before, only this time they had a sly look on their face.

It was far worse than any FNAF animatronic. This was real. This was _NOT_ a game. I looked over at Steph, she didn't seem to notice the mysterious figure. She was distracted by the people walking their dogs a few feet away.

"Matthew, look at the dogs, aren't they so cute?" She cooed.

"Yeah," I said nervously.

"What's wrong Matthew?" Steph asked concerned.

I turned back and the mysterious stranger was gone.

"Nothing," I hesitated. "I'm just... getting a headache that's all. Too much sun I guess."

I don't think she believed me, but she just shrugged. This park was so big, almost too big. Even in the afternoon the park felt spacious with all the other Californians taking advantage of this beautiful day.

"Matthew, I just wanted to say Thanks," Steph smiled at me, her soft brown eyes filled with admiration.

"For what?" I asked, almost a little too harshly.

"For this picnic, of course! It was just the break I needed from all this stress. You're a good husband and I'm so glad I met you," She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome Steph. I love you so much,"

"I love you too."

Those. Three. Words.

As if out of nowhere our intimate moment was ruined by the gun pointed at our chests.

The mysterious stranger from before was standing before us, a look of the devil on their face and the smell of murder on their breath. Something exploded within me. I guess you can say it was fear. I was scared. I had never been ambushed before. I looked around frantically, hoping someone was witnessing this.

They weren't.

Only the birds in the trees and squirrels on the ground were witnesses to the situation. Nobody with a voice was there to call out for help.

This wasn't a video game.

I couldn't just press a button and call for help. Nobody would come. I could pray to all the gods in the sky, and to all my friends in the world and even they wouldn't answer.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with that gun?" I shouted, hoping someone, anyone would hear my distress call.

"Shut up! It makes it easier on me if the victims keep their damn mouths shut." The figure said hoarsely.

I looked over at Steph, her face was pale, as if the world around her stole all its color. She was scared, but was trying to remain strong. She never really liked to express her emotions. I didn't say anything, but tried to give her a reassuring look. She didn't buy it.

"Listen here, Matthew, I'm so damn sick of seeing you and _her_ together, actin' all cute all the time. It's disgusting. This world's shit, it's about time you start realizing that." The figure moved closer. I could feel the revolver's cold barrel threateningly touch my stomach.

Stephanie winced. I could feel her tension radiate off of her and evaporate into the sticky air.

"Got nothin' to say? For a man who never shuts up, you're pretty quiet now," The figure moved their face closer to mine as they spoke. Their breath reeked of whiskey and broken dreams. I wondered if the figure even knew what they were about to do.

"What do you want from me?" I interrogated.

"You."

"What?" I asked, sweat beading down my neck.

"You're a smart man, you should understand a question as simple as that." The figure pressed the gun deeper into my stomach.

"L-listen, I seriously have no idea what you're talking about, please, p-PLEASE just stop this." I was frantic. I needed to get out of there. I needed to grab Steph by the hand and run away.

But I couldn't.

I was petrified.

"I'll say this slowly, and only once, so listen up. I. WANT. YOU.  I want little miss sunshine over there to be out of the picture, even if I have to do it myself. Kindness over here, that's my gun by the way, is gonna solve this dilemma for me. My momma always said to kill people with kindness. I don't think she meant it literally."

He removed the gun from my stomach and pointed its barrel at the love of my life. Her eyes grew wide, fear creeping on her delicate face. She looked like she was gonna faint. She was so pale.

"Okay asshole YOU listen up," I said, stepping in front of Stephanie. "You kill her, and I-"

I was cut short by soft porcelain voice in my ear.

"Matthew," Steph whispered, Stop this, Please. I can't lose you," I turned around and saw a stream of salty tears run down her face. "They wants me out of the picture, let Them do it."  

"Never. Not as long as I'm alive. I am _NOT_ losing my _angel_ ," Tears were streaming down my face. I didn't wipe them away. I was not ashamed to cry.

"Hey you creep," I called to the figure, "You are not going to kill her. You're going to kill me. That's it. You got that?" This sense of false confidence filled me with determination.

"To be honest, I was hopin' you'd say that. You were my target all along, but I just decided to play with your emotions before I killed you. Just for giggles, ya know?" Their face was malicious, they had murder in their eyes.

"Say Goodbye,"

Time moved like molasses. I felt like Max from life is strange when Kate was about to fall, except _I_ was the one falling. I watched the bullet move from the gun to my torso. I waited for the pain.

Nothing hurt worse than seeing the horror on my wife's face.


	5. Forget the World (Steph's POV)

That sound, was deafening. That sight, was terrifying. The way Matthew's body fell to the cold ground, lifeless, unmoving ... was heartbreaking. My world was crumbling around me, fading into nothing but me and my husband's contorted body by my feet. A sharp sting of pain pulsated through my legs as my kneecaps scraped against the dirt, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of my chest collapsing inwards, onto my heart.

As I placed Matthew's body in my lap, I surveyed my surroundings. The attacker was long gone. I was left, alone, with Matthew's dying soul.

He quickly turned pale as his blood drained from his body and I knew that he would never recover. This was it, after ten years of tender love and compassion, to the point where our souls fused as one, we were ripped apart, forever leaving a hollow hole in my heart where he had once been.

This was how our adventure ended.

I pulled him towards my chest, desperately trying to be as close to him as I could, tears lining my face, small droplets of water scattering delicately on his cheeks. I slowly grazed thumb across his lips and whispered his name. He winced, slowly opened his eyes, and, with all of the energy that he could muster, smiled. My heart never hurt more than in that moment.

"Steph..."

His gravely voice cut the silence between us. The short, shallow breaths he inhaled while speaking were unnerving. He couldn't breathe, and neither could I as I gazed at his murky brown eyes. They had lost their mischievous glint.

"Will you ... lay with me?"

I sighed heavily, a weight pressing upon my chest as he spoke. His life was about to end and his last request was for me to lie next to him, just like how we used to on lazy mornings or late nights. Oh, what I would have given to curl my body against his under our sheets, on our little, old mattress, presumably with Skip by our feet, relishing in each other's warmth. Oh, what I would have given to wake up from this nightmare and run into his arms, listen to his pounding heart, and fall right back asleep, knowing that no matter how horrific this dream may have been, he was there to support me. But, those days of seeking comfort in his arms were long over.

I smiled weakly at him, placed his body back onto the grass, and laid my frame next to his; fingers interlocked, shoulders brushing against each other. We sighed as we watched the vibrant orange and pink hues of light dance across the sky as the sun set in the distance. A warm breeze swept across my shoulders, but I didn't care to notice. The only thing that was on my mind was that this was the last moment I would share with my husband.

My loving husband.

"Steph..."

I turned my head towards him, hair brushing against the grass that lay beneath me, scratching against my tear-stained cheeks. I waited in anticipation for him to continue, fearing that each word he breathed would be his last.

"Just ... forget the world."

Chasing Cars. Our song. The song he used to propose to me all those years ago. The song that marked our love for each other. This was how he wanted to utilize the last bits of life he had within him; by singing one final song for me.

He truly was a remarkable man.


	6. Stephanie's Lament (Mat's POV)

The bullet ripped through my stomach on impact. I thought about all the vital organs that were being destroyed in the process. I was going to die. No god in olympus could save me now. I could feel the crimson liquid flow from the wound. My mind was beginning to become cloudy and my head began to pound. The world around me was spinning and I could feel my body shaking. A buzzing filled my ears, blocking out the world around me.

I almost didn't hear Stephanie's lament.

 _Almost_.

Her lamentations filled the once quiet and peaceful park. The overflowing cascade of tears emerged from Stephanie's puffy eyes. I could just imagine all the thoughts flowing through her head, none of them good. The fear washed over her, causing her breaths to become shallow and her once steady hands tremored with anxiety.

She picked up my broken body and placed it in her small, frail lap. She pulled me in close, my head rested upon her chest. Her heartbeat was rapid, unlike mine which was beginning to slow down. I felt her warm tears creep down her face and land on my own. She gently took her thumb and softly stroked my lip.

"Oh Matthew," Her whisper echoed through my foggy mind. My wife's beautiful voice was calling out my name.

There was nothing I wanted more than to reach my hand out to her and pull her head close to my chest and let her listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I was powerless and was losing my battle for survival.

_This marked the end of our world together._

They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. In that moment, the only thing I thought of was Steph. From that moment I met her, to those silly moments on the live streams and her laugh, oh her beautiful laugh. Her laugh was the sound of bells chiming around the holidays. It had that same smooth tone to it. I wished I could hear it one final time.

I needed to say something, I needed to say one last thing to her. I needed to savor this moment and drink it's sweet nectar of desperation. I needed our final anniversary to be the best one of all. Through the foggy storm of my mind, an idea formed. It was the best idea I have ever had. With every last bit of strength, I set my plan in motion.

"Steph, will you... lay with me?" I whispered. 

Steph looked surprised and sad, but hastily agreed. We laid there together on the warm grass and watched as the sun as it set over the horizon. I knew steph was enjoying it more than I was. My head was so cloudy, all the colors seemed to escape from world around me. The only thing in my mind was that this was the last moment we'd ever share together. This adventure was coming to an end, and the best part about it was being together.

I felt my life slipping away, this was my last chance to show my affection for my beautiful angel.

"Steph," I whispered.

I hesitated, the pain swelling through me, making it hard to breathe.

"Just... forget the world."

 _Chasing Cars_ our song. The song I used to propose to the love of my life were my last words. I wouldn't have had it any other way. With those words, I followed the soft golden light that shined upon me, into pearly whiteness of the afterlife, waiting for the day I'd see Stephanie again.


	7. I Love You (Steph's POV)

I felt his grip loosen around my fingers and I knew that this was it. He was leaving and I couldn't stop him.

"Matthew?"

No response.

As much as I wanted to turn my body towards him, caress his face, and kiss him one last time, my muscles refused to move, rendering me useless in this situation. I was too afraid --too afraid to look at the body of my husband, the man who I always imagined starting a family and growing old with, the man that I loved with all of my heart; who deserved the world. I was too afraid to look at his still and unmoving body, void of all of the life --all of the happiness and love-- it contained underneath his once peachy and warm skin that, right before my eyes, turn pallid and cold.

How could this have happened to me? To us?

The vibrant colors that once filled the sky with exuberance and life slowly faded to grey as the moon rose over the buildings in the distance. Everything that was once so colorful and happy around me was replaced with something cold and unnerving, leaving me hollow and alone. Never in my life did I think that I was going to feel my heart shatter into pieces. Pieces that I could never put back together.

Matthew, the love of my life, was gone and, in his wake, left me torn. Death not only took his life, it also took the channel, Chris and Jason's jobs (oh God, how was I supposed to break the news to them?), the fans, the future I was going to experience with my husband, and my sanity. But, it left me with the memories; the memories I shared with Matthew. As I tightened my grip on his limp hand, my mind was plagued with thoughts of his smile, his comforting embrace, and his dolphin-like cackles that I loved so much.

I'm not sure what hurt more; Matthew's death or my memories of him.

I turned my head to stare at the still body of my husband.

He had a smile on his face.

The longer I gazed at his form, the more his intricate features morphed into one, big blob. It became hard for me to breath as the gravity of the situation dawned on my consciousness. I unlaced my fingers from Matthew's, grabbed his arm, buried my face into it, and cried. I cried. I hollered. I screamed his name hoping that he would wake up and wrap his arms around me again, hold me close to his chest, gently run his fingers through my hair, and tell me that everything will be okay.

He did none of these things.

He laid there, motionless. Dead.

My mother always told me that God had plans for all of us; that one day, we will feel his undying love and that there will forever be a kingdom of happiness and bliss waiting for our eternal selves. If God was so caring and compassionate, then why did this happen? Why didn't he save Matthew? Why did he take away the one source of happiness I had in this world? Having Matthew by my side was a blessing, a heaven-on-earth, but then, he slipped away and just like that, a fiery, isolated hell took his place.

I just hoped that Matthew would make it to the afterlife, that place of eternal salvation. And I hoped that he would wait for me.

I placed my elbow on the soft ground beneath me, gently digging into the sand, shaking, as I propped my body over his. I ran my fingers through his hair one last time, let my tears fall onto his cheeks once again, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

His skin was so cold.

Unable to hold myself above him any longer, I collapsed onto his frail and unmoving chest, one without a rhythm or a heartbeat.

He was dead.

The love of my life was dead.

But I laid my head on his torso anyway.

And, as I caressed his gentle face for the last time, I whispered those three words that I always said too much, but not enough.

"I love you."


End file.
